


Waiting For You in the Sun

by PhenomenalAsterisk



Series: Phe's 25 Days of Drarry 2020 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Early Bird 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2020, F/M, Grief/Mourning, HP Wireless Festive Minifest 2020, M/M, Minor Character Death, Molly Weasely makes the best Christmas presents, Non-Graphic Mpreg, Widower Draco Malfoy, drunken proposals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhenomenalAsterisk/pseuds/PhenomenalAsterisk
Summary: Six years worth of Christmases with the Malfoy family exploring happiness, grief, new love, and family
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Series: Phe's 25 Days of Drarry 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035603
Comments: 22
Kudos: 60
Collections: 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2020, Wireless Festive Minifest 2020





	1. Just Like the Ones I Used to Know

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the sweet [The_Sinking_Ship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sinking_Ship/profile) for her kind and thoughtful beta. I am still finding my writing legs and needed her hand-holding. 
> 
> This fic is a part of the 25 Days of Drarry event. I’ve rearranged the 25 early-bird prompts to my liking to form four fics, a cracky Christmas Party one, this angst-ish get-together, a Mall Santa AU, and a cute dating fic. I’ll post a chapter a day leading up to Christmas. 
> 
> This fic is also a part of the Wireless Festive Minifest. Each chapter is titled after a Christmas song, with a video link. I intended for you to start the video and listen to it in the background while you read to set the mood, but of course, you do you, boo. The title of this fic (and the last chapter) comes from Tim Minchin’s White Wine in the Sun, which was my own prompt for the minifest. It’s been my favorite Christmas song for years. The song itself is critical of religion (though this fic doesn't mention it either way), so be mindful if that’s something you’re sensitive about, but the themes of family and love make this an absolutely beautiful song.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” Feel free to start the video and vibe while you read through this chapter.  
> 

Astoria absolutely loved Christmas. And she had absolutely no compunction about letting it show. Their tree was blindingly brilliant. She’d crafted her own charmed strings of lights to suit her tastes. Garlands of holly and berries or yew greenery rested on most surfaces. It was almost embarrassing, Draco thought, except that she was so endearingly earnest about it.

He managed to restrict her down to only four Christmas trees throughout the manor, but her little figurines seemed to reproduce and multiply everywhere. She had an enormous assortment of knickknacks, baubles, and trinkets and found a home for each and every one on the various tables and shelves throughout the manor. She was careful to make sure the ones within little Scorpius’ reach were all child-friendly, and didn’t mind in the least when her red and white singing carolers ended up congregated in the corner, singing “The 12 Days of Christmas” for Scorp’s tea party of stuffed animals. 

Draco adored his family. Scorpius was a sweet-tempered boy, and Astoria truly a doting mother. He couldn’t imagine how he managed to be worthy of such blessings. Of all the wretched years he’d endured in this house under his demanding arsehole of a father, and the wretched Dark Lord himself, Draco never thought he would end up with a family, let alone a happy one. 

As Christmas Eve descended, Astoria whisked her little family away to look at the Muggle Christmas lights. Extravagant Christmas decorations like the Muggles created hadn’t really caught on in the wizarding community — possibly because they knew the magical truth of the absolute madman that became Father Christmas — so instead of staying in Diagon Alley, the Malfoys took a leisurely walk from the Leaky Cauldron into Muggle London to see what they’d done with their fairy lights. 

It was a fun little tradition, huddling together in the cold, basking in Astoria’s excitement with the warmth of hot chocolates warming them from the inside. Holding mittened hands, wrapping their scarves high up their necks. Astoria’s gasps of delight and wide-eyed wonderment were enough to make Draco forget about the cold weather. He might not find Muggle Christmas decorations miraculous enough for a yearly visit, but he found Astoria miraculous enough to indulge her. 

It was wonderful. And this was the last year Astoria would be alive to see it.


	2. Ditto Ditto. I Hate It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from “Yours, Yours, Yours” from 1776 
> 
> You hear the relevant line within 30 seconds, though the entire song is similarly filled with aching loneliness if you’d like to listen and vibe as you read this chapter.

The first year after Astoria died was bloody awful. Narcissa was kind enough to move back to the manor from her home in France to help take care of Scorpius while Draco mourned. She’d escaped to France to nurse her own broken heart after Lucius’ death. Now she returned home so Draco could nurse his.

Draco’s grief was all-encompassing. He stood in the garden and listlessly watched Astoria’s flowers wilt. He sat up in bed listening to Scorp cry in his sleep next to him. He drank tea and very little else. He lost weight and color until Narcissa sharply reminded him he couldn’t leave Scorpius an orphan. He stared at the paper without reading it. He cried in his bedroom, sorting through her old clothes to donate. He wept in the night, holding a miserable Scorpius as he cried, “Papa, why can’t I just fall asleep?” 

It was a long year. Christmas was especially difficult. In some misguided attempt at normalcy, he dragged Scorpius out of the house down to Muggle London. He found himself sitting stiffly on a bench. Everything was just as shiny, golden, and picture-perfect, but without Astoria’s trademark wonderment it only seemed cruel. 

“I hate it,” he said to himself. 

Little Scorpius leaned heavily against him, eyes blinking slowly in the night. He tried not to cry in front of Scorpius too often. It made him feel like an awful parent, to feel so out of control with a child who surely felt out of control himself. But tonight he did. With Scorpius dozing off beside him, Draco cried.


	3. Love and Joy Come to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the traditional “Here We Come A-Wassailing”  
> Feel free to listen and vibe while you read.

Bit by bit, as time passed, it got a little easier to function. Draco was bullied into therapy by one stubborn Gryffindor, which Draco could admit somewhat begrudgingly helped immensely. Narcissa got along very well with Scorpius, the precocious child. He spent evenings playing all manner of games with Draco, and giddily reminded his dad at least once a week that he’d promised to teach him how to fly once he turns six.

Draco distracted himself from his loss by devoting himself to his son, trying to be the parent he would have wanted for himself. He put his grief in a box and saw it shrink over time. That first year his anguish was all too consuming to try and contain, but as time passed he felt more and more able to live again. The days Pansy or Harry appeared from his floo became less of a chore to suffer through, and more often than not he found himself genuinely enjoying the company of his friends, rather than dreading it like a man facing Death’s Kiss. 

So when Christmas time came around again, he made more of an effort. He allowed them one box of Astoria’s ridiculous knickknacks and requested Scorpius’ help finding good homes for them about the manor. Scorpius took this duty very seriously, and organized his figurines both by height and by charmwork. The 12 Days of Christmas set was his special favourite, and although Draco quickly grew weary of hearing it sung ad nauseam, he could hardly begrudge his son that small connection to Astoria. 

On Christmas Eve, Draco considered his options. It felt like giving up to not try visiting Muggle London again, though he wasn’t much looking forward to it. But with little else available by way of distraction, he resigned himself to a cold night in London. 

Draco found a secluded bench and sat a little awkwardly with his son, looking about at the Christmas lights. Last year may have been miserable, but this year just felt kind of sad. He and Scorpius both sighed aloud, in near unison, until Scorpius broke the awful silence. 

“Why are we here again, Papa?” 

An echo of a smile passed Draco’s face. “I don’t know, Scorpius. Tradition, maybe?” He turned away from the festive decorations to face his young son. “Your mother loved Christmas. She loved seeing the lights, even here. Especially here.” His smile twisted a bit and he leaned closer, confiding, “Though I admit it doesn’t quite hold the same appeal for me without her.”

Scorpius pondered this for a few moments, squinting up at the lights trying to see what about them had captured his mother’s heart. 

“Papa?” 

Draco hummed in reply, watching a group of festive carolers making their way along the boulevard.

“We need a new tradition.” 

Draco turned to Scorpius once more, plainly surprised at the suggestion. Scorpius was only five, but in some ways he had aged more quickly in the past few years. After a long moment he finally answered. “I think you’re right.” 

The carolers had stopped nearby and were clearing preparing to perform. A man wheeling a heavy cart was following them and set up shop nearby as the Malfoys watched. Scorpius peeped a look at his father when it became clear the man was selling hot drinks to accompany the music. 

"Can we get some Papa?"

_“Here we come a-wassailing among the leaves so green...”_

”Yeah. Let’s.” 

Draco stood and Scorpius hurried ahead to the cart ahead of his father. Draco let his son hand over the Muggle bills for two steaming cups of wassail. They stood nearby sipping their drinks and listening to the carolers sing. Scorp slipped his hand into Draco’s and grinned at his father. 

“I guess it’s not so bad,” he said. “As long as I’m with you.” 

A pang shot through Draco’s heart and he squeezed Scorpius’ hand without answering, remembering himself saying those same words to Astoria so many years ago. 

“Love and joy come to you! And to you a wassail too!” 

Draco snorted at the cheery lyrics and watched the lucky slice of orange he’d gotten swirl around his cup. He’d gotten the wassail, sure. That’s one out of three. 

But love and joy? As a widower? Draco took a long pull from his drink. 

He rather thought his life’s allotment of romantic love had come and gone with his dear late wife. After the life he lead, the mistakes he’d made, it would be foolishness to assume the universe would bless him with anything more. 

Of course, it would also be foolishness to discount the _love_ he felt from his friends and family, or the moments of joy in his life. He had kind, thoughtful Scorpius. He had his mother who cared about Draco’s little family enough to put her own life on hold. And friends who wouldn’t let him sink away into despair. 

Despite his best efforts that first year after Astoria’s death, the lack of a romantic partner didn’t have to mean an end to all happiness. He would just have to appreciate the little moments of joy wherever he found them. Like just now, watching Scorpius bobbing on his toes a little with the music, completely unaware of Draco’s melancholy introspection. Draco smiled and tugged Scorpius close against him. 

They were walking back towards Diagon Alley when Draco heard someone call his name. He turned and was surprised to see one Harry Potter. Somehow the man’s bright grin managed to bring more light to Malfoy’s heart than all the Muggle fairy lights combined. 

Harry had grown to be a wonderful friend in the past several years. Their social groups had intertwined after Hogwarts, once Ginny shacked up with Pansy and Blaise took up with Neville. They still bickered and sniped at one another, but it was more friendly and warm than their teenage years had ever been. In fact, their relationship had only grown stronger as Harry helped Draco through his grief, even recommending his own mind healer for therapy. 

“Happy Christmas, Harry. What brings you about Muggle London this late on Christmas Eve?” 

Harry lifted a bag and flushed. “Oh, some last-minute shopping. You know me.” He rolled his eyes at himself and smiled at the pair. “Hello, Scorpius. Happy Christmas!” 

“Happy Christmas, Mr Potter.” Scorpius smiled bashfully at him. Scorpius was shy with strangers, but Potter hardly qualified. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if this new coyness was because his little man had a crush on Potter. 

Harry’s eyes crinkled at the boy as he corrected, “Harry, please!” 

“Sorry, Mr Potter,” Scorpius smiled back sweetly, “Papa’s orders.” 

Harry glanced back at Draco and narrowed his eyes, “Papa’s orders?! Whatever have I done to deserve that!” 

“Please allow me to teach my own son the modicum of manners that seem so far out of your grasp, Potter.”

Harry staggered back, “Ah! I’m wounded!” he mocked and Scorpius giggled at his antics. “I suppose I’ll just cross your names off my shopping list now, then?” He warned, brandishing said list. 

Scorpius made a squeak and Draco narrowed his eyes with a smirk. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare deprive your favorite five-year-old of whatever … interesting gift you have planned.” 

Potter pouted for a moment before Scorpius grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry Mr Potter, we always love your gifts! Papa used your bath salts every day for a week last year!” 

Draco cleared his throat and pinked as Potter lit up with another grin. 

“Ah, Scorp, I do appreciate that mental image!” Harry answered lightly. “Never fear, I could never resist showering my two favorite blondes with _interesting_ gifts.” He winked at Draco, who felt a blush rising as he wondered how many blondes Harry actually knew, and exactly how detailed his mental image was. Before Draco could embroil himself in those thoughts any further, Harry had switched topics. 

“But you certainly wouldn’t be doing any last-minute shopping like this old man,” he asked, glancing between them. “What are you two up to tonight?” 

Draco looked down at the dregs of his cup, unsure how to answer. 

Scorpius took the silence as an opportunity to pipe up. “We’re not sure! Papa says Mama used to take us to see the Christmas lights, but I’m bored and he doesn’t really like it either. But we did see some carolers! And Papa bought me wassail!” 

Harry paused and looked to Malfoy who nodded, still avoiding eye contact. “Mmm. I see. I hope I’m not intruding then?” He asked quietly, obviously a little abashed at his boisterous interruption to their night.

Draco smiled at the honest hesitance in Harry’s voice and met his eyes. “Not at all, Harry. It’s always good to see you,” he murmured honestly. He enjoyed Harry’s light too much to see him dim out of a misplaced sense of decorum. 

Harry smiled timidly at his friend before he looked back to Scorpius and cleared his throat. “Wassail, you say? Well, might I interrupt you further then and inquire where I too might enjoy some of that delicious drink?” 

Draco couldn’t help but smile at the easy camaraderie Harry managed to engender whenever children were about. Harry was always so good to Scorpius. It was no wonder the poor boy had heart eyes for the silly git. After all, he was patient, handsome, and kind. He’d always been such a sweetheart to them both. Keeping Draco company when he was nothing but a blank-eyed lump. Keeping Scorpius occupied through Draco’s existential crisis at Ginny and Pansy’s wedding last summer. Sure he was … a bit of a loose end at times, but he was… Harry. 

Harry and Scorpius were heading back towards the carolers hand in hand when Harry turned around to twinkle back at Draco, who’d found his steps slowing along with his thoughts. In just a few minutes it had become abundantly clear to Draco that Scorpius was not the only Malfoy with a crush on Harry Potter.


	4. I Feel it in My Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from “Christmas is All Around” by the fictional Billy Mack from the movie Love Actually. Feel free to listen and vibe while you read.

Draco asked Harry out on a date shortly into the new year, and they’d been together ever since. It’s been... wonderful. Harry improves their lives in nearly every way. He’s silly and kind and good about getting Draco out of his own head when he gets too morose. He teaches Scorpius how to fly and convinces Narcissa to teach him about the plants she’s cultivated in her gardens. Harry speaks highly of seeing his own therapist regularly, even though he’s “mostly well-adjusted now,” always said with a wink.

When Christmas rolled around again and they pulled out the decorations, Scorpius spent hours explaining to Harry how each piece was important (or not, as the case may be). There were ornaments celebrating special events, ones with intricate musical or moving charmwork, even ornaments the Greengrass family had made themselves (though nothing so gauche as you would see on a Muggle tree). 

Carefully wrapped in old newsprint, they found the crystal cut animals for each of the Malfoy’s namesakes. A scorpion with a colorful stinger, an elegant dragon with glittering fire behind its teeth, and a regal hawk, wings spread wide, for Astoria. Harry oohed and ahhed appropriately, and joked about finding a 'Hairy Harry' wig to hang on his tree at home. 

Potter even had a brilliant idea for a new Christmas tradition. Instead of taking a trip to sad Muggle London to try and remember Astoria among the decorations, they made plans to visit her grave and bring the decorations to her instead. They spread greenery around her headstone, and Draco provided some fiddly lumos charms to substitute for string lights. Scorpius even found a figurine to leave at her graveside that he wouldn’t mind entrusting to the elements. 

Following a chilly picnic lunch sharing Christmas memories at her graveside, they prepared for one of Harry’s Christmas Eve traditions - an evening with the Weasleys. 

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand and ducked in for a kiss at the corner of his mouth. They headed up the steps and to absolutely no one’s surprise, Draco and Scorpius were made to feel wonderfully welcome and at home. 

Rose and Hugo pulled Scorp into their games and introduced him around to the multitude of children running about. Scorpius’ grin was near manic as he bounced around with the other children.

Ginny was there with Pansy, of course, despite her wife’s wishes for a seaside holiday. Harry spent time chatting with his old friends and adopted family, and Draco was grateful the genial family held no grudge against his past. Food was shared and gifts were passed and Harry was pulling Draco into his lap in the corner of the massive living room to nose at his neck.

It was a wonderful Christmas, Draco concluded, trying to ignore Harry’s insistent nuzzles-- a useless attempt to maintain some semblance of propriety. Christmases with Astoria were … picture perfect. She delighted in placing everything just so, planning special evenings out and parties for their families. She made it an Occasion to be celebrated. Christmas at the Burrow was also delightful, in its messy, slapdash warmth.

Draco relaxed into Harry’s embrace and let himself sit in that dichotomy a moment. He still loved Astoria, for all she’d helped him through after the war, for giving him a beautiful sweet son. But it was obvious he also loved this mad man chewing on his earlobes. 

Scorpius had been recruited to help pass out the presents along with the other young ones. The grin on his face as he bounced around the room warmed Draco from head to toe, and he snuggled further into Harry’s arms. Scorpius brought a lumpily wrapped package to Draco and beamed at him. 

“From Mrs Weasely.”

Draco’s heart soared at the implications. “A genuine Weasley knit?! What have I done to deserve this?” Harry pinched his side and Draco absolutely did not giggle. “I’m serious! Even I know this is something special.”

Mrs Weasley had stretched her knitting needles beyond sweaters the past few years. Draco opened his gift as carefully as the untidy wrapping would allow, and found a pair of mittens. They were far from the fine leather gloves tucked into his coat pockets. No, these were knitted unicorn mittens. A lurid magenta color with a white mane of yarn across the backs. Beady eyes were sewn in underneath a bizarre stuffed horn coming out of the middle. Draco drew them on, eyes wide while Harry sniggered into his back, holding up his own hands in snake-themed mittens. Unfortunately making them snakelike included not only a floppy red ribbon tongue hanging from his fingertips, but a cuff that extended all the way up his elbow. 

Scorpius bounded up to them both then, showing off his new hedgehog mittens. He snuggled his hands up into Draco’s neck, tickling his dad and laughing when Draco chucked him under the chin with his unicorns. 

“Weasley knitwear, Draco!” Pansy called out, waving her penguin mittens at him. “You know what that means? You’re part of the family now.” 

Draco grinned at her, eyes not at all misty at the sentiment, before turning. He very seriously placed his unicorn hands on each of Harry’s cheeks. “I sure hope so.” And bent down to press their lips together.


	5. There is Just One Thing I Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas is You” Feel free to listen and vibe while you read. Or not. Found a sweet cover for you since Mariah's version, while iconic, is also LOUD.
> 
> PS what's the gender-neutral term for aunt/uncle? I went with anticle, and you can fight me in the comments about it 😅

The following year was fabulous. Harry was spending so much time with the Malfoys at the manor, Draco told him to stop faffing about and move in. Narcissa hadn’t quite moved out, but she was back to spending significantly more time at the French property.

They spent weekends now and again with Ron and Hermione, their children playing broom chasey across the manor lawn while Hermione and Harry took turns playing Draco and Ron in wizard chess. 

Pansy and Ginny were in fierce competition for coolest anticle and spoiled Scorpius rotten with field trips all over the country. 

Draco himself ended up on a trip with Bill Weasley earlier that year when the man had needed some help identifying some antique Dark artefacts. Ever since, Bill had been trying to lure Draco into working with him as a curse-breaker, wooing him with pub nights every other month he was in town. 

By the time they were pulling out the Christmas decorations again, Draco felt as if he’d acquired a whole new set of family relations. 

They elected for another graveside picnic that Christmas Eve. Scorpius had fiercely debated leaving the “Nine Ladies Dancing” caroler for her, but ultimately settled on a jeweled toad that would ribbit when tickled. 

That evening found them once more at the Burrow for their party. Instead of anthropomorphic mittens, Mrs Weasely had knit everyone inordinately long scarves, patterned in stripes that spelled each person’s full name. 

“And don’t worry dears, I can always whip up an extra foot or two if ever we need to add more!” She gave Malfoy and Harry a pointed look.

“I think she means you lot!” George chimed in obnoxiously, elbowing Harry in the ribs. Harry blushed and hid his smile in a glass of pumpkin juice. Truth be told he’d thought extensively about that very thing. He loved Draco fiercely. And Scorpius just as much. He did ache to tie himself to their family. But it seemed a hideous imposition, to declare himself a part of something he really had no right claiming. It wasn’t like that with the Weaselys, they’d adopted him from the first day they’d met back at Kings Cross. Could he forge his own familial connection to the Malfoys? Harry bit his lip and blushed at the thought that perhaps now would be a good time to try. 

Draco was not nearly so introspective. “Oh you mean us?” he hollered, long-limbed and loose beside Harry. Bill had coaxed him into firewhiskey shots earlier, and he was clearly well past tipsy and nearing fall down drunk. He rolled onto the floor entirely too gracefully than he ought to be at three sheets to the wind, then looped his new Weasley scarf around Harry’s neck and pulled him in close. 

“Harry Potter. You are the love of my life. And if Molly doesn’t mind adding an extra name to our scarves, I wouldn’t mind asking you to be mine.” He’d started tearing up now, dramatic weepy drunk that he was, and Harry’s face was flushed dark as he tried patting him comfortingly. But Malfoy wasn’t done yet. He continued loudly, “I am so lucky. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you. You’re sweet and handsome and kind and you know, Molly’s spot on in this case. We really should get married.”

“Oh sweet Merlin, you big tit, you can’t propose to me when you’re drunk! It doesn’t count,” Harry hissed, embarrassed. 

Draco jolted to his feet, nodding seriously and straightening his sweater. “Quite right, Potter. Quite right.” He turned to face the group who was staring at the two of them in various states of amusement. “Bill! That sober-up if you please!” 

There was a flurry of commotion as a pair of vials were passed around the room to Draco, who was doing a smashing job of making his precarious lean look regal. They ended up at Scorpius, who held them aloft somewhat cautiously. 

Draco almost seemed surprised to be reminded that he had a son. He dropped heavily to a knee next to Scorpius and put a hand on his shoulder. “Scorpius, you like Harry, don’t you? I love him. Very, very much, and he’s made me very, very happy.” 

Scorpius swallowed, wide-eyed and pale. The longer Draco struggled to open the potion, the longer he rambled on. “And I love you so much, Scorp-- Scorpio--Scorpius--” he grunted tugging at the stopper, “You’re such a good boy. You mean the world to me.” He finally cracked open the bottle and stood with a victorious shout. 

Draco knocked back the sober-up potion and shuddered hard as it burned the alcohol through his system. When he opened his eyes a minute later he saw the entire Weasley clan looking at him expectantly. He blinked and took an involuntary half-step back, knocking into the sofa behind him. Harry was seated there, looking more concerned than amused. 

“Harry!” Draco tried for relieved. “What’s going on?” 

Harry winced. Draco must have been black-out drunk if he couldn’t remember five minutes ago. Scorpius was hesitantly holding out a second sober-up, and Draco tried to take stock of his faculties, still feeling a little off base. He reached for the bottle, deciding a double dose wouldn’t be amiss if he’d truly been that far gone.

He unstoppered the potion much more easily than the first, and drank it just as Pansy drawled from Ginny's lap, “You were proposing to Harry,"

Draco spluttered and coughed up half the potion. Harry jumped up, mopping him clean with the ridiculously long scarf draped about his neck. 

George snickered. “It was really something beautiful, mate. But Harry said you couldn’t propose drunk. So you demanded a sober-up and here we are!” 

Bill waved from his corner on the floor, leaning back on his hands with his feet kicked wide in front of him. “My fault, Draco!” he winked, rocking his heels back and forth. “Didn’t know you had it in you!”

Harry coughed after a moment too long staring at Draco’s dumbfounded face and sat down, hastily flicking on the wireless, desperate to fill the awkward silence of the room with something other than the bated breath of the Weasely clan. 

“Well then! Moving along!” Ginny took one for the team to give them a moment to recover, loudly passing out her and Pansy’s presents to the crowd. 

“Sorry, darling,” Harry murmured to Draco once attention had been suitably diverted away from them. “I would have stopped you if I’d know you were that far gone.” 

Draco looked up from his dazed stupor to meet Harry’s eyes. “Do you mean the drinking or the proposal of marriage?” 

Harry’s bushy eyebrows were drawn together in concern, and he was looking at him with such tenderness that Draco almost couldn’t breathe. Harry loved him. He knew this. And he loved Harry. Obviously. And sure, this wasn't at all how he'd envisioned the night going, but his cards were on the table now. Why wait for the perfect moment when he was already so perfectly happy with this man. Draco swallowed hard and wrapped his hands around Harry’s face. 

“Harry. Darling. I love you so, so much. You deserve so much more than a drunken proposition. I’ll make it up to you someday, I promise. But I meant every word. I would be delighted and honored if you would be my husband.”

Someone had turned the wireless back down again, so of course, everyone heard Harry’s gasp, “Oh Godric, yes! Please, yes!” He surged forward and snagged Draco around the neck. “I love you so much, you silly git.” 

Amidst the cheers and stomping all around them, Scorpius had gone pale, a tremulous smile darting about his mouth. He jumped when Pansy reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder. She looked a mite more serious than the jubilant Weasleys around her and he grappled to latch on to her, anything to keep him tethered. 

“You okay Scorpius?” She murmured beneath the raucous hullabaloo. 

The smile flickered on and off his face, his eyes wide. He stood from the floor and let himself be folded up in Pansy’s arms while his father was folded up in Harry’s. 

“Champagne!” Arthur called out merrily, hoisting a bottle high. Molly was a blubbering mess beside him, transfiguring champagne flutes for everyone through her tears.

“To Harry and Draco!” cheered George. 

Charlie pulled out some pumpkin juice for the younger folk, and George handed out Molly’s flutes as fast as Arthur could pour them. When George tried passing Harry a flute, he fumbled. 

“Err…” Harry hesitated, his hand fluttering midair a moment before taking it awkwardly. He raised his glass in a toast but didn’t drink. Draco beside him was grinning so widely his face seemed ready to split apart. 

“To family!” shouted Ron raising his glass for another toast. Harry again raised his glass, but instead of drinking it in one like Draco beside him, he just sort of ogled it. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed from across the room. 

“Harry. Anything wrong?”

Harry mumbled something unintelligible and brought the glass to his lips. Though instead of hiding his abstinence it only seemed to draw more attention to the fact that he wasn’t drinking. 

Ginny gasped, eyes darting between Harry’s face and his stomach. “Harry! You’re not!” Her cry had again silenced the room and Harry sighed in exasperation, setting his flute down a little too firmly.

“Oh, Salazar." An insane look shone in Harry’s eyes and he began a little hysterical giggle, finally catching Draco’s attention as he whipped his head around. “This is turning into quite the night for announcements.” 

Draco's hand clamped down on Harry’s wrist. Harry looked a little helplessly about the crowd staring at him now, expressions ranging from wondrous to baffled. 

Draco’s face was white as a ghost, his jaw clenched tight as Harry finally turned and met his eyes. 

“I’m pregnant.”

For the second time that night the room erupted. Scorpius whimpered and buried himself even further into Pansy’s arms.


	6. Love and Dreams to Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from “Christmas Time is Here” from Charlie Brown Christmas. Listen and groove to this tender version while you read.

The rest of the night was a blur of exclamations, explanations, and cheers.

Charlie sat with Harry and let him pepper him with questions about his previous pregnancy as a surrogate. 

Draco was in turns slack-jawed and goggle-eyed at his newly-minted fiancée/baby daddy. Bill offered him some more celebratory firewhisky, though Draco insisted this time on only nursing the one. 

Pansy stroked Scorpius’ hair in her lap and didn’t say a word. 

Eventually the thrilling excitement of the news relaxed back into the general hubbub of entirely too many people in one space. It was still Christmas Eve and there were a handful of presents more to pass around. Scorpius brightened a smidge when he was gifted a new broom from the Weasley brothers. He was still a little pale, and those around him chalked it up to being more overwhelmed than anything. It had been a busy night of drastic changes, to say the least. 

While Harry and Draco were caught up in celebrating each other, Pansy kept Scorpius cuddled close. 

“If it were any other night, dear, we’d just have you stay at our place,” she murmured to him. “But it’s Christmas," she sighed, and Scorpius nodded blindly. 

When they finally apparated home and Scorpius scarpered off to bed, Draco and Harry wasted no time at all absconding to their rooms to have the conversations in private they’d been too crowded for at the Burrow. 

Several vigorous celebratory shags later, Draco was smiling blissfully at Harry, kissing his hairline in little surges while Harry drifted closer to sleep. 

“Draco,” Harry reached for his lover’s -- fiancée’s!! -- hand where it was combing through his thick chest hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I’d only just found out this week and I didn’t know if Christmas would be the right time. I know the holiday always brings Astoria to mind.” 

Draco hummed against Harry’s forehead and chuckled. “No harm done. And that’s not how I ever intended proposing to you either,” he agreed. “Definitely a night to remember.” 

Harry smiled and lolled his head at Draco. “How did you plan to propose to me, then?”

Draco was silent for a moment. “Well, I thought probably in the gardens. I know you love the grounds here. And loathe though I am to admit it, I do dabble in sentiment now and again.” he smiled wryly at Harry. “Honestly the biggest hold up was that I thought I needed to discuss it with Scorpius first.” Draco frowned and continued. “Which, in retrospect, makes me a little fearful as to how he took it all tonight. That was…a rather remarkable evening.” After a bare moment of stillness, Draco was out of bed and pulling on a dressing gown. 

“You all right, love?” Harry called at the flurry of activity. Draco was already heading to the door. 

“Yes, I just...need a minute with Scorpius. I’m afraid I’ve rather neglected him tonight.”

Draco knocked at Scorpius’ room, unsure if his son was even still awake. When there was no answer he cracked the door open, not wanting to wake his son nor intrude on his privacy. But the room was empty, his bed was a fresh tangle of sheets. Draco crossed the room a little bewildered and whirled around, looking for any clue as to where Scorpius might have gone

He paced back into the hallway, unsure if he should alert Harry immediately or search the house first, when he heard the faintest of sounds drifting up the stairs.

_“Fiiiive goooold riiiings!”_

He let out a breath and shook the adrenaline free from his hands as he flew down the staircase. He moved quietly through the dim Manor, following the sound of Scorpius’ favorite little Christmas decorations. 

_“Fiiiiive goooold riiiiiiings,”_ sounded again and Draco found himself in the drawing room, where Astoria’s tree was shining as brilliantly as it always had. 

Scorpius was laying on his stomach in his bedclothes. The twelve tiny carolers were smiling up at him, holding their choir books and singing out in turn whenever Scorpius prodded them. Draco stepped into the room and watched Scorpius tickle the rotund little figure now endlessly repeating, _“Fiiiiive gooooold riiiiings!”_

Draco hummed a little and sat down cross-legged beside his son. It was dark in the room except for the tree, spelled with strings of brilliant white lights and covered in those beautiful glass ornaments. 

_“Fiiiive gooooold riiiiiings!”_

“Scorpius, I find I must apologize for my behavior tonight. That was not how I intended this evening to go.” Draco said.

Scorpius pushed Mr. Five away and rested his chin on his fist, staring at the tree. 

“While it is true I am-” he swallowed his emotion down, “so happy to have Harry as my future husband, I had not intended to propose until I’d spoken to you about it-- about how you’d feel if Harry were to join our family. I owe you an apology for that misstep. I let myself get carried away on the drink, and I’m sorry.” He looked at the ornaments on the tree instead of risking Scorpius refusing to meet his eyes. “I am not often prone to... impulsive behavior. But when it comes to Harry, I’ve always been rather reckless.”

Scorpius didn’t respond with words, though he did give “two turtle doves” a chance to sing. After a few minutes contemplation the boy rolled onto his side to look up at Draco. 

“It’s okay, Papa. I know you love him.” 

Draco’s heart melted. How did he get so lucky as to have such a thoughtful son? One more thing he could only strive to be found deserving of in the never-ending penance for his past sins. 

“And I love him too.” Scorpius continued. He paused and Draco bit his lips shut to wait for his son to say whatever he needed to say. 

“It was a surprise, sure.” Scorpius finally continued, rearranging his little choir. “And...” Scorpius paused for several moments more, finally pushing himself up to sit and facing his father head-on. “And I know you love me?” Scorpius had been doing so well putting on such a cool front, but it was that tiny little uptick wavering at the end of his sentence that betrayed his concern. 

“Oh, my son.” Draco couldn’t help but let his emotions overflow and scoop Scorpius up into his arms. “Of course I love you. My dear boy, you were all that was holding me together for so long.” Draco didn’t bother to hide the shaking of his voice, the tremble of his hands. “I couldn’t do this without you.” 

Scorpius weaseled his little arms out from where Draco was crushing them to his chest and wrapped them right back around his father. 

“You’re the most important to me. If that’s not obvious I need to be doing something differently.” 

Draco leaned back and put his hands on Scorpius shoulders to look him in the eye. “You are my saving grace, Scorpius.” 

Scorpius’ mask of indifference flickered, cracked, and reformed in turns, trying to keep his chin from wobbling, his eyebrows from bunching, his eyes from leaking. 

“I love you so much.” 

“Thanks, Papa” Scorpius mumbled into Draco’s chest. “I love you, too. Sorry for… whatever.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, son. It was an intense day for all of us. I’m sorry I didn’t check in sooner.” 

Draco released Scorpius from his hug, and several more minutes passed just leaning against each other in quiet thought. 

“Then there’s the other thing,” Draco finally added. 

Scorpius looked at Draco, a bit wide-eyed. “I-- I think I’ll be excited?” His small smile betrayed exactly how excited he already was. “It was all just a little overwhelming. All at once, you know.” 

Draco smiled. “Yeah. I know what you mean. I was... a little overwhelmed myself.” Draco smirked and chuckled. “Still am, I admit, when I think about it.” 

Under the golden glow of the enchanted Christmas tree Scorpius looked positively cherubic.

“We’ll have to get them an ornament!” Scorpius grinned

“Certainly. After they have a name of course. It’s still early days yet.” 

Scorpius considered this for a moment, then broke into a giggle. “And we’ll have to find something for _Harry._ ” He emphasized the name they’d always joked as too pedestrian for such finery. “He’ll need one too.”

“That he will.” Draco added. “But what?” He arched a conspiratory eyebrow at his son.

They sat a little longer, staring at the little cluster of ornaments that represented their family. A crystal dragon and scorpion, nestled on either side of a fierce hawk whose wings stretched around them midflight. Their family had changed once before. And soon it would change again. And they would be alright.


	7. These are the People Who Make You Feel Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Tim Minchin’s “White Wine in the Sun.” His song might not fare as well as background music while reading (unless you’ve heard it before), so video and additional notes linked at the end instead.

The following year was … interesting to say the least. Harry was adorably pregnant, and Draco doted on him ceaselessly. Scorpius was especially looking forward to being a big brother. 

They had a summer baby in late August, a beautiful little girl, with grey-blue eyes that matched the Malfoy men.

Even with the addition of a 4-month-old, that Christmas was a lot more subdued than the previous year's tumultuous evening at the Burrow. The little Potter-Malfoy family spent a late lunch at Astoria’s graveside, having a little picnic while Scorpius showed off the latest additions to their ornament collections. He and Draco had kept Harry’s quite a surprise and refused any help in selecting it, despite all Harry’s increasingly ridiculous suggestions. He’d been a big proponent of a hairy potato, mostly for the juxtaposition it would offer next to the elegant animals. 

Scorpius couldn’t keep from grinning as Harry was finally allowed to open up the small box containing his own personalised ornament for the Malfoy family tree. Harry’s eyes crinkled with delighted puzzlement as he pulled out a crystalline rabbit standing on long legs. 

“A bunny? rabbit?” he queried, confused but amused. 

Scorpius giggled. “Almost! It’s a hare!!”

Harry didn’t look any more enlightened, as he carefully twisted the ornament in the light. “I see. And why did you choose a hare?”

Draco looked at him blankly, then deadpanned, “It’s a hare, Harry. Honestly it’s the best we could do for such an uninspired name.” Scorpius giggled as Draco continued, “Though I dare say it’s better than any of your suggestions.”

Harry was laughing outright now. 

“Oh, a hare! Of course! Why didn’t I think of that!” Harry said, pulling Scorpius into a giggling hug. “Thank you Scorp. You’re exactly right, that was much better than I could have done. How very kind of you.” 

“Can I open Baby Ursa’s now, too?” 

“You already know what it is!” 

Scorpius heaved a sigh. “Well she can’t very well open it herself! And you said big brothers have to be good helpers!”

Harry exchanged an amused look with Draco and murmured, “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

Permission granted, Scoprius opened the box and pulled out a delicate glass bear cub. 

“Oh, Draco, it’s perfect!” 

Baby Ursa, the bear cub in question, was sound asleep. She was adorable and dark-skinned like Harry, with the same riot of curls, even if they weren’t nearly so dark.

Scorpius peeped in close to where she slept and gave her a kiss on the head. Holding her ornament aloft he cooed, “We got you a bear little Ursa, just like you!”

They put in an appearance at the Burrow party after they left the graveside. That year, Molly circled back around to the good old Weasley sweaters, as most of the grandchildren had outgrown theirs. Harry suspected she just wanted an excuse to make a tiny Ursa-sized sweater. They slipped the rosy pink thing on over her head and passed her around the room like the sweetest little hot potato. 

Using Ursa as an excuse to leave early, they finally made it back to the manor where Scorpius raced to hang up the new ornaments with pride. In front of that brilliantly glowing tree, Scorpius paused. After a few moment's indecision, he moved his mother’s hawk figurine up a few branches to watch over the rest of their little characters. He tucked the hare beside the dragon in its place. The bear, however, he put beside the scorpion; its tail wrapped protectively around the little cub. 

“I moved Mama's hawk, Papa. I hope that's okay." he said as Draco joined him. "Now she can watch over us."

“All the best angels do,” Harry murmured with a squeeze to Scorpius' shoulder. 

Their little family was just as picture-perfect as Astoria could have wished, both on the tree in miniature and there in the glow of the tree holding on to one another. As they would be for many more Christmases to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to listen to this song while you’re leaving a comment 😎 “White Wine in the Sun” is also where the title came from, and I borrow a line in this chapter as well. CW, the artist is an atheist and is critical of christianity and organized religion. Skip to 2:58 if you’d rather avoid that angle. Still my favorite Christmas song, and well worth a listen regardless of your feelings on god.
> 
> Thank you to the wondrous @october_type for rescuing Harry from being relegated to a hairy potato ornament. I'm no more imaginative than Harry here, and the cute hare was all her idea.

**Author's Note:**

> The next Advent fic I have planned is only 3 chapters long - but it's also a super-indulgent Mall Santa AU that wouldn't leave me alone. 😅


End file.
